I get the news I need.... on the traffic report?

As a DJ at my college station and a big fan of NPR, I cannot tolerate the uniformity of conglomerate commercial radio stations. Nevermind that tuning into a commercial radio station at any given moment will probably be a slough of commercials. To me, it is more remarkable that no matter where you are in the United States--be it Podunksville, Nebraska or New York City--commercial radio stations and DJs sound identical. I could certainly write something about the radio personalities that usurp the airwaves, but a particularly amusing Strongbad E-mail about the topic of radio probably sums this up better than I could. In fact, before you read any further, I insist that you watch it. Here's the link again: Click me!

What I love about this cartoon is that Strongbad pokes some good, hilarious fun at every type of radio station and personality, including my own precious terrain of public and college radio. As Strongbad points out, there is a certain (though perhaps more benign?) uniformity, even amongst the non-commercial/alternative wavelengths on the radio dial. Public radio is "smooth and smarmy," reliant upon use contributions with gifts like tote bags. And, hey, I will admit it, college radio is a totally amateur operation. Sure, Strongbad may not know that we all have to take a test on FCC rules in order to legally broadcast. But he certainly hits home with some of the more, let's say, esoteric music selections and the bumpy transitions inherent to a one-(wo)man show.

Of course, humorous elements aside, there is something quite unsettling about how local variety has been swallowed up over the years by a cultural conglomeration. Because most radio stations are owned by giant media corporations (like ClearChannel), there is very little local flavor left on the air. In less obnoxious ways, the same can be said of NPR affiliate stations, which usually do have some local programming, but also broadcast shows that you can hear almost anywhere. While I do love the feeling of knowing that someone, somewhere far away is listening to same program as I am, I wonder if I sacrifice that kind of connection to people who are geographically closer to me, as well.

This is precisely why, as a DJ and lover of public radio, I have grown quite fond of the traffic report. I know that probably sounds absurd, and it certainly is ironic given how much I abhor the traffic in Miami, but hear me out for a second. For all of the uniformity and convergence of a national radio culture, the traffic report is a decidedly local language. Go to any other city, tune into the radio, and it is likely that what you hear is something that sounds familiar. When the traffic report comes on, however, it is as though the reporter is speaking in another language.

If you are from Miami, for example, you know what it means when I say that there is a slowdown on Kendall Drive, or that the Palmetto Expressway is jammed from Ludlam Road to 27th Avenue. Today I was listening to the traffic report and there was an accident on the Julia Tuttle Causeway blocking traffic on i-95 Northbound during rush hour. I was personally quite thankful to be far away from that mess, but I could not help smiling at the irony of the radio traffic report being such a strange uniting force among locals. You know that you are truly a resident of a particular place if the traffic report is a language you speak fluently. When I lived in New Orleans, even when I finally did have a car there, I was never well-versed enough in road names to comprehend the full traffic report.

So the next time you are sitting in traffic, listening to the report on the radio, take a moment to smile. You and thousands of others are grimacing in the same language.